He was looking about for a place to sit down when he happened to glance down to the lake. To his surprise Westy was sitting in the boat his body turning and wriggling; he seemed to be intent upon some physical effort. “Are you eating all the muffins?” Artie called. “No, but my foot’s caught under this plaguy stern seat,” Westy called; “it’s like a blamed old woodchuck trap.” “Turn it sideways,” Artie laughed. “I did, also endways and upside down,” Westy answered. “It’s a puzzle. I’ll manage it.” As Artie moved his position for the better enjoyment of Westy’s predicament he saw that the rock which he and Uncle Jeb had wedged up was directly above the rowboat. He shuddered at this thought, but the rock seemed secure so he indulged himself in the pleasure of a few humorous taunts and bits of mirthful advice to the writhing captive. Then, suddenly, there was a crash, one of the logs went rolling down the hillside while the rock, still poised, trembled visibly. Then it moved ominously and some earth and small stones went out from beneath it, rolling away. It seemed to Artie that if he touched it or even breathed upon it, it would go crashing down to the lake. He held his breath, every nerve on edge.... CHAPTER V—IT SHALL NOT PASS “Loose the boat and push off if you can’t get your foot out,” Uncle Jeb called; “there’s a rock----” “I can’t reach the rope,” Westy shouted, not knowing his danger. Artie did not pause to call to his friend. One fearful look at the big rock informed him that it was going down. It seemed pausing like a beast crouching, ready to spring. Frantically he ran down the hillside, stumbling, catching hold of trees, now on foot, now on hands and knees. He would do what he could do quickest, and that was to release the boat and get it out of the path of the threatening monster. So as not to lose a second’s time he carried his opened scout knife between his teeth. He was about half-way down and going backwards so as not to stumble when he beheld something which caused him to act like lightning. Evidently Uncle Jeb had been putting another support under the rock. He saw the old man jump aside and heard him shout. He saw and heard in a panic of horror and did not know what Uncle Jeb said. Artie was not conscious of thinking at all. He saw the bowlder rocking, then saw it move and roll down a few feet and stop against a big tree. There it paused, balanced for two or three seconds. Artie saw Uncle Jeb run toward it, doubtless to try and hold it poised behind the tree. In a kind of trance he saw the old man hauling a log down to where that tree had momentarily blocked it in its crashing descent.